


Soft Epilogue

by ratherbefree



Series: come with me, my love [2]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Dubious Geography, F/M, Fluff, Sequel, Wish Fulfillment, god i'm sorry, i p much had an aneurism while writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 09:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6417319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherbefree/pseuds/ratherbefree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Juliet."<br/>Jeff visits Annie in DC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  _“I think we deserve_

_a soft epilogue, my love._

_We are good people_

_and we’ve suffered enough.”_

_\- Seventy Years of Sleep #4. Nikki Ursula_

* * *

He said he’s getting here at 3 and it’s 3:01. Where is he? 

Annie rolls up onto her toes and cranes her neck and still can’t really see over the crowd. She wishes it could be like in the movies; she wishes the crowd could just part like the Red Sea and there he’d be, grinning and waving, and there’d be plenty of space for them to run and greet and he’d pick her up and spin her around and 

“Watch it!” A middle-aged woman pushes past, dragging her small child by the hand through the crowds and - rudely - interrupting Annie’s fantasy. 

“Sorry,” she mutters to the woman’s back, though she is still mildly offended. 

3:04 now. 

Maybe he’s not coming after all, maybe he just said it to humour her and now the joke’s gone on far enough that he couldn’t back out and he’s sitting in his office at Greendale wondering how to break the news. 

Maybe she got the time wrong and he actually arrived at 2 and wondered why she wasn’t there and now he’s off in some bar somewhere, thinking the worst of her. 

Oh God, maybe his plane got in a crash and the airport just hasn’t announced it yet and he’s lying there bleeding and helpless and she’s thoughtlessly berating him for being late- 

No. 

Of course not, don’t be ridiculous. 

She shakes her head in a fruitless attempt to stop conjuring these scenarios in her head. 

(Spoiler alert, doesn’t work.)

3:06. 

She could go get coffee or something. He would probably understand, right? 

3:07.

She checks the terminal for the third time since her arrival. Yes, she’s in the right place, yes, she’s here at the right time, no, he’s still not here yet. 

3:10 and she’s about to phone him. 

That is, until she hears a familiar call of “Annie?” 

“Jeff?” 

“Annie?”

She balances on her tiptoes again, scanning the crowd. There! He’s standing to the side, watching the people who walk past in increasing confusion, and her stomach twists a little when she realises it’s _her_ he’s looking for, _her_ he looks so lost without. 

So she allows herself to preen at the attention for a short moment before sticking her arm in the air and waving frantically. “Jeff!”

He catches sight of her, then, finally, and takes off, sheer determination in his stride. There’s about 5 feet between them when something in his gaze roots her to the spot. 

It’s something like hope and also fear, but Annie doesn’t know what exactly he’s so scared of - is it her, or… Whatever might happen when they finally meet? 

(Because she totally understands his fear. Of _that._ She’s spent quite a lot of time thinking about _that,_ and even though most of the scenarios are exhilarating and exciting and make her heart flutter like a kid with their first love, some of them are pretty terrifying.) 

“Hey,” he greets her when they’re close enough to talk without yelling. His voice is slightly breathless and wonderfully _clear,_ nothing like the static-y, tinny sound from their phone calls.

“Hi,” she tries to tamp down the manic grin spreading across her face.

The corners of his mouth twitch until he’s grinning, full-blown, just as madly as she is, and before she can do anything he’s wrapping her up in a hug in a botched attempt to hide his face. 

Warm. Firm. Soft sweater. Scratchy stubble against her neck. 

It occurs to her that she’s been holding her breath, and when she lets it out it sounds like a sort of broken sigh, but he must empathise with something in the noise because he pulls her closer, nuzzling his face at the point where shoulder meets neck. 

When they finally pull apart the absence is a shock. Was it always so cold in here? 

“Annie,” it sounds like a prayer. 

“I missed you.” She has to step back a little to see his face. 

It sort of reminds her of the last night of First Year, when he pulled away and she took her chance. The memory is bittersweet. 

Should she kiss him now? Wait for him to kiss her? Does he want her to? 

He looks as though he might be wondering the same things. But: “Do you know the number for the local cab service?” 

“What?” 

“Cab.” He rattles the handle of his small suitcase. “Need to get to my hotel, right?” 

“Oh. Right.” She licks her lips. “Hotel, right.” 

Distracted, she scrolls through the contacts on her phone and relays the cab number to him. 

He programs it into his cell, but doesn’t call right away. Instead he is staring at her, a slight furrow in his brow. 

“Do you want to meet up once you’ve settled in?” Mentally, she berates herself for sounding like a concierge. 

“Yeah - that’d be nice.” 

“Good.” 

Jeff starts walking - for him, the exit doors are probably in sight - so she has to trot along beside him until she gets the pacing right. They soon fall into step, and if she looks at him out the corner of her eye it almost seems like they’re back at Greendale again, walking to class or teaming up to solve a conspiracy they secretly caused themselves. 

They reach the automatic doors and step out into the sunlight. It’s a warm day with little breeze, but something compels Annie to pull her cardigan tighter around her. 

Though she wants to say something, anything really, she stays quiet as he dials for a cab. The hotel address seems a little familiar. According to her mental map, it’ll be a couple blocks away from her favourite park. 

“So… How was your flight?” 

“Boring. Cramped. There’s no leg room at all.” 

She nods even though she can’t really relate. 

“I couldn’t wait to see you.” 

!!!

“I’m really glad you’re here.” 

He does a curt little nod and shoots her a crooked smile, and she knows he feels as awkward about this whole thing as she does. 

There’s really no plan for the next week. Even after speaking on the phone and confessing… things… The next few conversations until now were mostly about his flight, about what time and day he’d be getting here and whether or not he should settle for a Holiday Inn or splurge on something nicer. 

But now what? Jeff’s here, in DC, close enough to touch, but she doesn’t know. Does he even want her, the way she wants him? He booked a separate hotel after all (not that she wasn’t expecting him to!!! but she kind of thought. well.) and now he’s just benignly agreeing to vague plans for the evening (seriously there’s no agreed time or place or anything) and. Um. 

“Is 6 okay?” 

“Wha. What?” 

“For later.”

“Oh. Yep.” 

His gaze lingers on her for a moment like he’s expecting her to say something else. 

Maybe it’ll help if she does. “Um. There’s a little coffee place near your hotel. I think.” (She doesn’t think. She knows. But he doesn’t have to know she researched his hotel.) 

“Sure, sure.” But he still has that _look,_ like he wants something more. 

* * *

So the rest of the afternoon is spent unproductively. 

At first she reads, and it works for a little while but she’s barely 3 chapters in when the nagging feeling overcomes her and she leaps to her feet, storms over to her closet, and rips the doors open. 

What should she wear? What will _he_ be wearing? What is appropriate for this encounter? _What_ is _this encounter????_

Maybe a sundress. He always liked her in sudresses, right? 

But then she tries one on (garishly pink, crowded flowers, suddenly too obnoxious) and when she looks in the mirror, she sees her 20-year-old self staring back. 

Nope. No-go. 

She wants to be taken seriously. She wants to look like an adult woman, capable of making her own decisions. Not a silly teenage girl in cutesy clothing. 

By process of elimination, that leaves about half of her closet. Great, then. 

It takes her a while (a long, _long_ while - after, she hardly has time to do her hair) but by the end of it she’s standing in front of her mirror in a simple red dress (which she totally wore to her internship interview, but whatever) and feeling like maybe the evening could go well. It’s casual enough to wear to a Starbucks but nice enough to seem like date-clothes, and her hair falls in light waves over her shoulders and no matter how much she scrutinises herself, she hasn’t really found anything to change. 

* * *

Perhaps the only useful thing indoctrinated into her by her family was the advantages to arriving 5 minutes early for every meeting, interview, or gathering, however informal. 

However sometimes she worries about being too late for the 5 minutes, and sets out with an extra 5 minutes to spare, resulting in arriving at the location 10 minutes early. 

This is one of those occasions. 

Fortunately, it’s still pretty nice outside - slightly windy, but it’s DC, whatever - so she perches on the edge of one of the metal seats outside the little cafe instead of going inside. 

Jeff promised to be there on time, though there is still a small part of her that doesn’t really expect him to show up at all. Not that she doesn’t have faith in him! But habits are hard to break, right? That’s probably it. 

The minutes slowly tick by and she’s bouncing her leg, hearing the swishy fabric of her skirt slide over her legs with each twitch. 

At 7 minutes she begins to reconsider her whole outfit. The colour of her dress seems just too out-of-place for a casual little cafe like this.

At 8 she wonders whether it’s really wise to wait outside - maybe she should go in and order a drink, to make it look as though she didn’t just wait for him for 10 minutes. 

At 9 she stands but doesn’t really move, hovering by the metal table and straining her eyes to try to spot him in the distance. 

Finally at 9 and a half minutes he’s there. He doesn’t spot her at first, instead staring straight ahead with a little furrow in his brow, like he’s worried. 

And she’s sort of glad he doesn’t see her, ‘cause it gives her a little time to just watch him. Watch him and listen to her own heartbeat (it’s suddenly so very loud in her ears, echoing in her head) and. And just. Love him. 

She loves him.

It occurs to her as naturally as a simple observation about the weather. 

It’s true. She loves him and she used to love him and maybe she didn’t for a while or maybe she never stopped, but nevertheless she loves him now and he’s here, with her, _really_ here, and perhaps in the not-too-distant future she’ll get a chance to share this revelation with him.

The thought gives her shivers. 

Jeff’s eyes find hers, locked even over the short distance, and he shoots her a little smile as he makes his way over. 

She is unsure of what to do with her hands, so leaves them twitching at her sides, pulling at her skirt and plucking at nonexistent threads. 

“Sorry.” Is his first word. “I thought we were gonna meet at 6?” 

“Oh! Yeah. Sorry - I accidentally got here early.” 

“What a uniquely Annie Edison problem.” 

“Ha. Yeah.” 

“Um.” He ducks his head like he’s self-conscious or something, which totally doesn’t make sense because he looks _amazing._ She likes to think she knows him well enough by know to know that he might just have spent as much time picking out an outfit as she did. 

He looms over her, not saying anything, and she has to kind of crane her neck a little to see him but their eyes meet anyway and she loves him, she loves him, she loves him. 

She’s in grave danger of saying as much when he clears his throat. Moment over. 

“We should, uh. Go in?”

“Sure, sure.” 

It’s awkward because _of course_ he had to stop it - these kinds of things happen a lot ( _happened_ a lot?) and most of the time it is him who backs out first. 

But then, this time doesn’t exactly feel like that. It’s awkward, yes, but more of a mutual sort of awkwardness - what just happened, what is currently happening, isn’t just one-sided. She isn’t imagining things. 

Its just a cafe get-together, nothing fancy, nothing official. They order drinks. He offers to pay. She politely declines. They sit. They sip. They say nothing for a while until they feel comfortable enough to break the silence. 

“So.”

“So.”

“We should probably…”

“Yeah.” 

“I missed you.” He runs a hand through his hair, destroying the undoubtedly carefully crafted style. 

“I missed you, too.” 

“Annie…” He cuts himself off with a weary sigh. “What’s the agenda here? We need to talk, I know that, but - what first?”

“First?” Seeing him all wound up like this is significantly less amusing than she always thought it would be.

“Yeah. Like, last time we called - last week - you said we had to talk about - about Grace - before anything else. Happened.” 

“Uh-huh.” She shifts in her seat. So. _That._

In all honesty, she’s forgotten everything she wanted to say. At the moment she doesn’t particularly want to talk, or sit in a dead cafe where the empty atmosphere just makes everything seem so much more awkward. 

She wants - has wanted, ever since he arrived, really - to touch him. And kiss him and feel his hands cup her face and run around DC with him and. Um. Other things. 

_Later._

“Um. Grace. It wasn’t… You shouldn’t - ugh.” 

“We don’t have to - I mean, if you don’t want to-“ 

“No. Just.” She sighs. “Part of me knows I should scold you for spontaneously dumping her. Like Britta would. Female solidarity and all that. But I also… I don’t know. It’s selfish, but I’m also sort of happy you broke up with her, for-“ For what? For _her?_ Is it reasonable for her to hope that much? “For - To come here.” 

He nods, slowly, pensively. “Look: My whole, uh, relationship with Grace, was just… It wasn’t real, for me, anyway. I just sort of - got with her, ‘cause it seemed like the thing I should be doing. Y’know, accept my life and my age and everything that happened, everyone who left, and try to finally… I don’t know. Become an adult.” 

“Was she okay with it?” She winces at her own choice of words. _Of course Grace wouldn’t be_ okay _with it. Even if the relationship was only fleeting, break ups are always hard._

“She was alright, I think. A little mad at first, but she cooled down. Said she was glad I ended it before she introduced me to her kid.” 

“Ah.” 

“I just - I felt bad, ‘cause I thought she was maybe more invested into…it… than I was.” He looks up, stares her straight in the eye for a moment before downcasting his eyes back to the sticky table. “Honestly, the entire time I was with her, all I could think about was you. And I thought that might go away after a while, but then it just became more and more frequent, and…” He shrugs his shoulders helplessly, and, yeah - she really, _really_ wants to touch him right about now. 

“I thought about you, too, you know.” 

He shoots her a tiny smile, almost bashful. A smile that tips her over the edge, has her sliding her hand across the gross table and meeting his. 

* * *

Jeff is almost permanently in a state of disbelief about the state of his life. Usually, this is a negative thing - he can hardly believe that, after everything, he is stuck teaching at Greendale Community College. 

Other times - very, very rare times, mind you - it all seems more positive. Right now, for example, he can hardly believe that, after everything, he is _on a date with Annie Edison._

And it is a date. And there was some confusion about that, but thankfully that got cleared up after the first 15 minutes. Annie likes labels, after all, and contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t have much of an aversion to them, himself. 

It’s not exactly what he was expecting when he stalked through the airport, some time earlier. Ever since their last phone call - the night before his journey - he had, privately, been building up to rejection. He imagined the scenario so many times in his head that, when he concentrated hard enough, he could practically hear her saying the words. Sweet apologies and explanations of misunderstandings and _it’s not you, it’s me._

But now he’s sitting across from her in some dingy cafe, draining the last dregs of his cheap coffee, watching her talk about her latest intern assignment and basking in the silent knowledge that this probably won’t be the last experience of this kind that they’ll share. 

There’s potential for more. 

There _will_ be more.

* * *

It just seems to make sense that she goes with him when the cab pulls up outside. It was the most natural step, what with the handholding and lingering glances and _completely-adorable-oh-my-god_ tiny little smiles.

In fact, it’s only when they’re sitting in the back of the black cab, watching the other cars fly by and the buildings rush back, that it actually hits her. 

 _She’s going back to his hotel room._ The thought suggests itself in a calm sort of voice. 

This is definitely the kind of thing she would freak out about, a couple of years back. A couple months, even. 

But right now, the realisation comes with an acceptance. This is what makes sense. This is what is happening. This is what _should_ happen.

“Are you freaking out just now?” He punctuates this with quirk of one eyebrow, clearly trying to convey sarcasm.

“Mm. No. Maybe.” At the small flash of panic in his eyes, she hastily adds: “Not about you. Or - or _this._ Just. I don’t know.” 

“We can get out, if you want. I could walk you back to your apartment.” 

“No.” It comes out harsher than she had intended, but no matter. “I don’t. I mean, I want this. Really.” she squeezes his hand, loosely clasping her own, and it’s enough to settle the matter, for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotel.

The sun is slowly going down by the time they reach his hotel. On the scale of living-out-of-his-car to highly-esteemed-defense-lawyer, it’s a little below Greendale-professor levels. 

Which, for reference, makes it a Holiday Inn. 

He’s staying at a Holiday Inn. 

(Which normally would depress him, but he can’t really complain about the situation right now - holding hands with Annie, walking with Annie through the reception area, riding the elevator to his floor with Annie, pushing open his door one-handed and stepping into his room with… With…)

“Annie?” 

She makes a little humming sound in the back of her throat, craning her neck a bit to stare up at him. Though it’s not really necessary, she stays close. 

It suddenly occurs to him that they haven’t even kissed yet, and he only arrived in DC less than 6 hours ago… Fuck, and he just up and dragged her back to his hotel room like an idiot. Does she even want this? (Does she even want _him?)_

“Sorry, we should- I mean. I.” 

“What?” Shit, he hopes he’s only imagining the way her eyes narrowed just there. 

“You - And - Annie, we haven’t even kissed yet.” 

“So?” He’s definitely _not_ imagining the way she moves away slightly, shifting backwards so there’s more than just a few inches of space between them. 

“So-“ How does she not see the problem here? “We’re _here! In my hotel room!”_

“Are you really so upset about that?” She looks vaguely insulted, and maybe a little confused. “Jeff-“

“No, it’s just. There’s all these - these _implications._ I don’t want you to think I planned this - I didn’t mean for-“ 

“I never thought you planned this or anything,” she attempts to reason, voice soft. God, she’s talking to him like he’s a child - not surprising, given the way he’s freaking out right now. “And, we can definitely take things slow. We don’t have to do - anything - tonight, if you don’t want to.” 

Now she probably pities him. Or is mentally planning an escape route for the second he turns his back. Or is wondering why she ever invited him to DC in the first place. Fuck.

She squeezes his hand (shit, and she was holding it the entire time and it’s probably all gross and sweaty now-) and tries to meet his eyes. When she succeeds, she explains, “I just want to spend time with you. All the other stuff doesn’t really matter.”

She’s so smart. And though he doesn’t exactly believe in her sentiment, he definitely believes in _her._

So he squeezes her hand right back, and tries to forget about the rest.

* * *

She wasn’t so sure before, but now Annie gets it. He wants her as much as she wants him. And everyone knows she’s always been a sucker for emotionally vulnerable!Jeff, even though the current circumstances aren’t the greatest.

And she totally respects that he’s overwhelmed - truthfully, so is she - but right now, she needs to touch him. 

How does one ask the person they’re in love with to kiss them without sounding too desperate?

‘Cause, yeah, she’s done it before. They’ve done this before, but last time, it was a kiss for the end of Everything, and now, it’s the exact opposite. 

In an ideal world, she would have said something simultaneously subtle and quietly romantic. What comes out instead is, “Kiss me?” 

Spoiler alert, the outcome is just as nice.

Jeff quirks his eyebrows and opens his mouth, probably to make a joke, but soon thinks better of it. Rather, he reaches out the hand not currently holding her own to cup her cheek. Eyes searching, possibly for confirmation?? 

So she holds his stare and tries to convey through expression the mantra of _YES, yes, yes, yes, YES, please!!_ that is presently running through her mind. 

Something must click, because suddenly he’s kissing her, all soft and sweet, and God, it’s just as amazing as the other times. 

Though she really wishes he’d stop being so careful, stop touching her as if she’ll break if he’s not gentle enough.

That thought slips her mind, however, as she slides a hand up to his chest. Warm. Firm. Soft sweater. Like before, in the airport, but also like _Before_ , back home. She can feel the rapid thump of his heart and wonders if he knows he’s having the very same effect on her. 

She lets out a little sigh, which prompts him to press his lips a little more firmly to her own. It’s like she’s floating. 

They both seem pretty content to stay like this for a little while, and so they do, until Annie’s neck goes a little numb from craning, and Jeff’s fingers twitch where they’re intertwined with her own. At that point, they break apart, all bashful smiles and fluttering breaths and beating hearts. 

“We should - slow down.” Jeff suggests, in a tone implying that he would probably rather do the exact opposite, but knows, begrudgingly, that this is the best way. 

“Yeah.” Annie agrees breathlessly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. 

He cocks his head in the direction of the bed - less than a foot away - and asks, simply, “Do you wanna watch TV?”

“Sure.” She watches as he busies himself with the remote, flopping down onto the bed when he’s flicked the set to life. He raises an eyebrow at her comfortable, spread-out position, before sidling past the bed and taking a seat in the nearby armchair. 

Well, then. 

“Y’know, when you said we should _watch TV,_ I kind of thought you meant, watch TV _together.”_

“This is together.” He deflects. “We’re together right now.” 

Instead of dignifying his attempted lawyering with a reply, Annie scoots over a little, before patting the new space next to her.

“Annie, I’m trying to be a gentleman, here.” 

“Ugh.” She makes a big show of rolling her eyes. That’ll show him. “I’m pretty sure we can sit next to each other for a while without… Doing anything.” Ignoring the last little stumble, she continues: “You’re not _that_ charming or - ah - irresistible.” 

“No, but _you_ are.” He responds easily. 

Of course, it melts her heart. She clamps her lips shut, tight, lest she accidentally slips up and tells him what is currently running through her mind.

_I love you I love you I love you_

“I guess I can move,” he concedes, letting out an exaggerated put-upon sigh as he sinks down onto the mattress. After a moment of shifting: “Happy now?” 

“Mm-hm.” She’s staring at her hands. God, she just wants to touch him again. 

“Let’s see…” He murmurs, perhaps mostly to himself. Over the next minute she sees the colours of the screen flicker and change out of the corner of her eye. When he finally settles on a channel, he explains, _“Weekend At Bernie’s.”_

Annie finds her nose wrinkling in distaste. “This movie’s gross.” 

“We can find something else if you want…?”

“No.” She shakes her head, remembering. “Troy used to love it. We should watch it. In his honour.” 

“He’s not dead, Annie.” 

“I know. But - he’s not _here._ And who knows how many chances he’ll get to watch this when he’s out at sea, travelling the world?” 

“Huh. Alright, then.” He sets the remote on the bedside table, before shifting a little on the bed. Is it only her imagination, or does he move closer? 

The film seems to be already around 20 minutes in and a slightly boring, dialogue-heavy scene plays on the screen. It is difficult to concentrate like this - being able to see him in her peripheral vision, knowing that if she just slides over a couple of inches, they would practically be pressed shoulder-to-shoulder. 

And so it goes. 

Every so often a joke will land, and she will feel surprised and slightly guilty from actually finding it sort of funny. Though Troy would be pleased, Britta and Shirley would definitely be more reproachful. 

However when it gets to the more gritty parts, it’s difficult to hide her discomfort. When Bernie’s body lands on the beach with a dull thud, Jeff notices her wince. 

“We really don't have to watch if you don’t want to.” He reminds her, tilting his head to the side. His stare is equal parts amused and concerned. 

“I _do_ want to.” She dutifully trains her eyes back to the movie. 

However, after a few minutes, she feels his thumb brush her pinkie. She waits until it happens a second time to make sure it wasn’t a (lovely, beautiful) fluke, before gently sliding her hand over his.

Their fingers intertwine: her small hand clasped tightly over his, and when Annie looks up, her companion’s gaze is warm, soft. The sort of look she could melt into. Maybe she already has.

And it’s invitation enough to shift over, just barely, just enough for their arms to touch and for her to lay her head on his shoulder. 

The rest of the movie doesn't seem so bad.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nighttime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, i got a tumblr!! finally!! (@rather-be-free) !!!!!! haven't posted anything yet bc i thought it'd be weird w/o any followers... kind of like shouting into the void? but follow if u want!

By the time the movie is finished it’s late evening. Annie’s already yawning - he guesses that usually, she goes to sleep around this time, as she once told him she starts the day as early as possible in DC to make it to her internship on time in the morning. 

At the moment, she watches the credits roll benignly, her head a heavy, near-constant weight on his shoulder. She hasn’t said anything in a long while, so lifts his shoulder a little to rouse her. 

“‘Not falling asleep on me, are you?” 

“Pssh. No.” She protests, but her massive yawn contradicts her words. 

“It’s only 10:30, Annie, come on.” He jokes, but when she doesn’t reply, he tries again. “Do you want me to call you a cab?” 

He feels her shake her head. “Mmmph. Too sleepy to move.” 

Ugh, she’s appallingly adorable like this.

“Well - what’re we gonna do, then?” 

Instead of replying, she merely shakes her head again. 

So he lets her have a moment. 

“‘nastayere.”

“Huh?” 

“Wanna stay here.” 

Uh.

Something must click, because she sobers up immediately, lifting her head off his shoulder. Her hair’s a little messed up from being pressed down on for so long, her eyes are cloudy, and her expression carries the kind of passive docility only someone close to sleep can have. Despite all this, her words ring clear. “If that’s okay? I don’t want to intrude…”

“No, yeah.” He shakes his head. _That didn’t make any sense._ “I mean, it’s no problem. If - If that’s what you want?” _Why would she?_

Annie makes a little humming sound in the back of her throat and nods. 

The next few minutes go by in a trance. She asks to borrow a shirt _(“I can’t sleep in my good dress - it’ll get too wrinkled!”)_ and then his toothbrush _(“I know it’s weird, and it’s okay to say no, but I’d really rather my teeth not be all gross in the morning.”)_

While she’s in the bathroom he changes into pyjamas. While he’d usually opt for a different…outfit…in normal circumstances, he figures it’s probably not the best choice for right now. Through the thin walls he can hear the tap running, and he never thought could have this - this little moment of domesticity, however low-key and undefined. Not in the study room, not when he left home and travelled halfway across the country to see her, not when she asked him to kiss her (for the second time!! maybe that counts for something???) or when she practically fell asleep on him. This is unexpected, and-

And.

Wonderful. 

There comes a soft knock from the bathroom door, jolting him from his reverie. “Are you decent?” He can sense the smile in her voice. 

“Yep.” He calls back. 

When she emerges, she is fresh-faced and beautiful. The grey shirt looks massive on her, the hem hanging around the middle of her thigh. 

Suddenly, he understands why men tear up when seeing their fiancee walking down the aisle - he’s pretty sure what he’s feeling right now comes pretty close to how they feel on the day.

“Gotta go wash my toothbrush now. Don’t want to catch cooties.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes and steps out the way, moving to perch on the side of the bed. 

He shoots her what he hopes comes off as a shit-eating grin, and shuts the bathroom door behind him. When he’s in privacy once more, he braces himself on the sink and huffs out a disbelieving laugh.

* * *

“Do you want me to set an alarm?” Annie’s already in bed, though sat up ramrod straight. She holds her phone in one hand and plucks at invisible threads on the sheets with the other. An air of uncertainty clouds the room. 

“Ah, no.” He replies after a moment’s hesitation. “Unless you-“ 

“Nope.” She sets her phone down on the bedside table, clasps her hands atop her lap, covered (thankfully) by the sheets. It’s practically dark outside - only the blurry glow of streetlights illuminate the room - and she has to squint to see him in the shadows. 

He moves. Sits, softly, on the other side of the bed. 

“Are you really sure about this?” 

She can see him now, though in a way she wishes she couldn’t. He is so vulnerable like this. She says, “Yes,” with as much confidence as she can muster. Maybe now he won’t be so unsure. But… “Are you?”

He raises his eyebrows: _do you really have to ask?_

Silently, she reaches to pat the sheets on his side. 

His eyes flick back to hers, once, searching again for confirmation, for any reason this might not be right.

_It_ is _right,_ she tries to convey. 

He sighs as though he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. But, lifts the sheets on his side. 

Annie watches as he gets into bed. She can feel her heart beat faster and tamps down her instinct response to run.

Jeff shifts to lie on his side, facing her, staring with eyes as large as the moon, searching for… What?

She mimics his position and inches closer, slowly. “What are you thinking about?”

He hums, considering. Moves his hand across the sheets, until the tips of his fingers brush her own. She clasps his hand in hers without questioning it.

At this, he meets her eyes again. “I really, really like you.” 

An arrow to her heart. This moment’s so soft and tender and thin and she might be trembling all over, or maybe shivering, she isn’t sure. She should relieve the tension. “I like you more.” 

He pokes her, lightly, in the side. “Doubt it. Also, not everything has to be a competition, Annie.” 

“Mmm. But if it were, I’d totally be winning right now.” 

“Want to bet?” 

“What exactly are we arguing about? This is too confusing.” 

“I don’t know! You started it!”

She shifts closer, until there’s nothing but a breath between them. Their height difference is a whole lot less awkward now, though their joined hands are sort of smushed up against his chest. It’s much easier to kiss him now, and she tells him as much. 

“We should just do all of our kissing lying down.” He replies.

“Agreed.” At some point during their…activities…his arm moved to her waist. Presently, she enjoys the feeling of being so close. 

However, when she opens her mouth to say so, all that escapes is a large yawn. 

“Annie, go to sleep.” He reprimands, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Mm. Can’t. Too tempting.” In her half-asleep state, she groggily pats his face.

“Well, if you can’t control yourself, I guess I’ll just have to go…” He makes the slightest movement, clearly bluffing about his earlier statement, but Annie pushes against him reflexively.

“Noooo. No. I’ll sleep. Promise. Just…” She twists and shuffles, turning until her back presses up against his chest. The movement wakes her up just a little, just enough to register the way Jeff stiffens behind her for the briefest moment before relaxing, letting his arm settle back at her waist.

She wants to remember this.

The room lapses into silence. It’s nice. Comfortable, even though her heart is racing and her mind is on the verge of going into overdrive from memorising every detail, every little aspect of this experience. 

(Like how his free arm slides under her pillow within a matter of minutes; how his fingers twitch at her side as though he’s trying hard not to pull her closer; how her heart flutters when he softly places a kiss over her hair.) 

“Is this spooning?” He murmurs after a moment, and privately, Annie delights in the way she can feel the slight tingle of his exhale against the nape of her neck.

She suppresses a giggle. He can be disgustingly cute when he wants to be. “Yup.”

“Huh.” He holds her closer, utters, in simple wonder, “I’m spooning.” 

Nodding and grinning. Eyes drooping. Heartbeat slowing - slightly. Sleeeep. Sleep sleep sleep. 

When she does finally drift off, there is still a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eh, not too happy w this one. my other wip is almost finished, though, so hopefully i'll be able to get more chapter of this up soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry its been ages lmao...... currently sitting my higher exams :/

It is difficult to remember the last time Jeff took part in any sort of sleepover.

He can recall alcohol - a lot of it, the cheap kind you could buy from gas stations with an obviously-fake ID - and _Seinfeld_ playing loudly on the TV. 

It’s been a while.

So he probably should be panicking right about now. Thoughts buzzing relentlessly. Heart hammering. Making up a billion excuses for why he should _l-e-a-v-e_ immediately.

And yeah, maybe there’s a little bit of that. He can’t help that his first instinctual reaction is to quickly uncurl his arm from around her sleeping form, shift away ever so slightly, just enough that the inch of space between their bodies is visible and clear.

But as he eyes her, cautiously, frightened of branding her with his stare, all he can feel is calm.

(Except for the whole _heart hammering_ thing. That’s still sort of happening. Just for the complete opposite reason as it would usually.) 

It’s an absurdly nice moment, really. A large part of him simply wants to resume his previous position, bury his nose in her hair, and go right back to sleep. 

The more practical part, however, reasons that he currently really, really has to pee, and ignoring this particular urge probably won’t be a good idea.

He doesn’t want to wake her, so he tries to shift his arm out from under her pillow as slowly as possible, watching her face intendedly for any sign of disruption. When all she does is emit a little sigh, he figures it’s safe to get up. 

A bathroom trip later and he’s scrutinising his hair in the mirror. Bedhead doesn’t suit him - he prefers the ‘slightly disheveled’ look. Though scrutinising turns into combing turns into styling, and by the time Annie calls out, “Jeff?” in a soft, sleepy voice he is too busy choking on hairspray to give her a proper reply.

“Yeah?” He manages after a moment, turning once he knows his hair doesn’t look too bad. 

Annie is sitting up in the bed, rubbing her tired eyes and barely concealing a yawn, like a damn cartoon character. It’s probably not the sort of thing Jeff should find attractive. (He totally does, though - ‘cause it’s Annie, and she can apparently make even the most ridiculous things look positively adorable.)

“What are you doing?” Before he can answer her, she shakes her head and speaks again. “Come back.”

A delightfully sarcastic response immediately springs to mind, but he bites his tongue. Bugging Annie is sometimes fun, however it probably wouldn’t be in his best interests at the moment. Instead, he complies with her request.

Annie nods, satisfied, when he has finally crawled back into bed. “It’s barely 7am,” she sighs. “Why on earth would you want to get up at that time?” 

Jeff shrugs the shoulder not currently being pressed into the mattress, trying to convey nonchalance. 

“Did you get scared?” 

“Hmm?”

She moves closer, placing one hand on his arm and rubbing in what he guesses is meant to be a soothing way. “Did it freak you out?”

“What?” 

Either she is unaware of his blatant stalling, or she’s choosing to ignore it. “You know… _This._ Us. Waking up together… Sharing a bed.” 

“Well, when you put it like that…” He shoots her a meaningful stare, hoping she will understand what he cannot say. _Yes, this is terrifying, I don’t want to freak out about everything but I am, sorry, sorry._

“It’s okay. I-“ She breaks off into a yawn. “I’m a little scared, too. Not that I regret this, or anything, just. I mean, I suppose… I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time - _c’mon, don’t give me that look! I’m trying to be comforting here, idiot -_ anyway, I’ve been dreaming about this for a while, and I think it’s been a long time coming, and now that, I don’t know, it’s finally _happening,_ it’s sort of. Scary.” 

“You’ve been dreaming of me for a long time?” 

Her soothing hand balls into a fist, punching his shoulder. “As if you _haven’t_ thought about this.” 

“No, I definitely have.”

“Exactly!” She simply grins at him for a moment, until she apparently remembers her original train of thought. “So it makes perfect sense to be a little freaked out by everything. You just need to _tell me, so that we can work it out together.”_ She adds the last part pointedly, staring right into his eyes so he gets the message.

“So noted.” He simply replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly I've encountered a little bit of writers block w this fic.. I'm not entirely sure where this is going atm, and so the next chapters probably won't be up for another wee while ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie and Jeff prepare to spend the day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry updates have been so sporadic lately - exam season blues. :/

They had planned to spend the day following Jeff’s arrival together anyway, so really, it can’t be counted as spending _too much_ time together because they _just so happened_ to spend the previous night together, also.

At least, that’s what Annie tells herself.

Presently, she climbs the stairs up to her apartment two at a time, trying desperately not to think about the _Look_ on his face when they parted ways. (Then again, no she isn’t.)

And it’s completely irrational, and kind of dumb, because of course she knows it’s only a matter of hours (97 minutes) until they will see each other again (at the park near his hotel, by the main fountain) but _God,_ she _misses him._ Somehow it’s worse now that she knows, _really knows,_ how he feels, because now there’s hardly anything to stop her from going and throwing herself at him. 

But that wouldn’t solve anything.

She has a _date_ to prepare for (!!!) and not a whole lot of time, so it’s better just to get started right away, and not waste any time daydreaming. 

That said, she is so distracted thinking about _not thinking_ about him that it takes her a couple of tries to turn the key in her lock. 

“How was the walk of shame?” Victoria asks ominously, as soon the door swings shut. 

“Be quiet.” Annie simply replies, dropping her bag to the kitchen counter and toeing off her shoes. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches her roommate’s smirk, but chooses to ignore it. 

“How’d it go, though? Really?” 

She ducks her head to try and hide the massive grin she can feel stretching across her face, taking the opportunity to attempt to school her features into a more muted expression. Only once she is a hundred percent sure that she doesn’t look like a deranged serial killer, does she lift her head to respond. “It was… Pretty good.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“We’re meeting up at the park in a while.” 

“Unsurprising.” 

Annie rolls her eyes. “I’ve gotta go get ready, though, so…?” 

“I won’t keep you.” Victoria lets out a dramatically put-upon sigh, but waves her hand in the direction of Annie’s room, letting her go. 

* * *

This thing with Annie - whatever it is - is possibly the best thing to happen since the start of the year. ~~Maybe for even longer than that, maybe since the start of his life.~~

She left him less than an hour ago with a hug and a peck on the lips and still, he misses her. The bed still sort of smells like her hair, and hard as he may try to focus on the task of checking and refreshing his Twitter feed, he keeps getting distracted. 

It’s kind of unbelievable - that a mere month ago, he was sure he had lost his chance with her for good, and yet last night she fell asleep in his arms. 

There’s _hope_ now. He can see future evenings, going to sleep in the same bed; future mornings with hurried hugs and quick kisses; future afternoons spent watching movies together, cuddled up on the couch. 

(Which is _so_ goddamn sappy. And if his brain weren’t clouded over by Annie, he might feel more embarrassed about that.) 

For the moment, though, he is just undeniably _excited._ He wants to see her again, log even more time with her before the opportunity is taken away from him. When he’s with Annie, he feels _lighter,_ happier, like anything is possible. 

Maybe he should tell her this.

Hmm.

Well, he reasons, she made it pretty clear that she _wants_ him to tell her how he feels - really feels. 

But he’s not even sure how he would articulate it. _Love_ is an accurate enough word, yet still painfully inadequate to describe how important she is. When she’s around, _love_ is definitely there, definitely present, but it’s more than that, it’s. It’s. 

It’s like a balloon swelling up in his chest, completely overwhelming, taking control of everything, uncontrollable. Or the swooping feeling in his heart that he’d get when he was a little kid on long car journeys; when the car passed over a small hill. Enough of a jolt, a jump, to be almost pleasant, but not so sudden that it’s scary, or sickening. 

Perhaps he should tell her that he loves her. She’s smart enough that she would probably understand. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> miiiiiight also be currently working on a sequel to my other fic, Magic Words and Frivolous Rhymes, so look out for that if you want, idk.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff and Annie meet in a park.

His newfound realisation  - or rather, plan - has Jeff buzzing all over with anticipation. Presently he sits on an appallingly rusty park bench, right leg bouncing erratically. (And God, he thought he was excited _before…)_

Annie seemed to be impressed earlier, so he decides that this whole _being-early_ thing is definitely worth the hassle. To the contrary, Annie is almost always exactly on time. 

Knowing that, he only has another couple of minutes to wait. 

It was she who suggested meeting in the park the day after he landed. (Though of course, she hadn’t taken into account the things that ended up happening on the day he arrived - how could she?) It had been late at night, and she called excitedly to tell him she had just finished planning the itinerary for his trip. The plan was to meet there, walk to the opposite end of the park, and from there take the DC Circulator around for a while. She assumed he would probably be a little jetlagged, and although he had argued at the time, he now knows that she was right. Annie is nearly always right.

The summer sun is warm on his face, and it’s a good thing he wore his new raybands, because squinting is _seriously_ not a good look. 

Of course, another advantage of the shades is that he can properly see Annie, around 20 feet away, walking briskly as if she’s just realised she’s late. 

On impulse Jeff stands up, suddenly becomes aware of how dumb it seems, shuffles his feet, and wonders whether he should meet her halfway. 

He misses his chance. Annie half-jogs the rest of the way, until she’s close enough that she has to squint to look up at him. 

“Hi,” she says, a little breathlessly. 

“Hey,” he replies, and he’s just as bad.

They stare at each other for a beat too long and Annie cuts off, laughing nervously and tucking her hair behind her ears. “This is silly, isn’t it?”

“A little.” 

“It really shouldn’t be this awkward, right? I mean, considering last night… And - and this morning.” Annie is adorable when she’s shy.

“I don’t know how to make the awkwardness go away, though.”

Annie sighs and twists her mouth, thinking. The answer she finally comes up with is simple, and she covers his hand with hers, interlocking their fingers together. 

Her tiny hand is warm and smooth and maybe it’s the fact that he’s been in love with her for the past year or maybe it’s just _Annie,_ but the easy action of hand-holding has his heart pounding in his chest. God. How does she have this much of an effect on him using only the slightest of touches?

“Okay?” She asks, tilting her head in the direction of the far end of the park as if to say, _let’s go._

“Yes,” he replies, and follows her.

* * *

“Ugh, come _on_.” Jeff watches the bus disappear round the corner. “That asshole _totally_ saw us coming. If he’d just waited a few extra _seconds,_ then-“ 

“Doesn’t matter.” Annie says, already taking a seat on the stop bench. “It’ll only be another 5 minutes. 10, tops.” 

He grumbles a little before sitting down next to her. It’s just his routine. 

And although she’s glad he’s alright, and glad that he’s near, glad that he’s _here;_ the physical presence of him being so close definitely has a couple of disadvantages. 

Like, for instance, the fact that she finds it increasingly difficult to focus on any thoughts that aren’t about him. 

And… Another reason. Probably.

“I was thinking earlier,” she starts, simply trying to fill the silence. 

“Hm?” 

“We could get dinner. Later. After the Circulator tour, of course.” 

“Annie Edison, are you asking me out on a date?”

 _I guess so._ “Pfft. Maybe.” Beat. “I mean, as long as that’s okay with you…?”

“It’s fine by me.” 

“Good.” 

“Great.”

“Excellent.” 

“Terrific.” 

“ _‘Terrific’_ isn’t better than _‘excellent.’”_

Jeff cocks his head to the side, considering. “That’s subjective.” But he smirks anyway. 

Annnnd here comes the distraction again. Her witty retort is forgotten in favour of a strong urge to kiss him. 

(Which is possible, now, right? That is A Thing She Can Do. It won’t end with a head-pat or a hasty declaration of platonic friendship… Probably.)

No second-guessing. That’s what she wants. 

In one quick move, she slides a little along the bench, places a hand on his shoulder for leverage, and swoops in to plant a kiss on his cheek. 

His look of disbelief and shock is almost funny. It sort of reminds her of the night after the Tranny Dance - except this time, she’s not in any doubt about how he feels about her, how _she_ feels about _him._

Just like then, he moves in for a longer kiss, cupping her face with one hand, pulling her closer with the other. She accidentally lets out a little sigh into his mouth, but instead of turning him off, like she’d feared, it only makes him change the angle to deepen the kiss. 

Even as she sidles away, she can’t bring herself to remove her hand from his hair. “We’re gonna miss the bus.”

“We can just catch the next one.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff and Annie ride a bus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk anything about geography I'm soRRY

The Circulator is a little feverish and a lot crowded. The top level is pretty much jam-packed save for a few seats up the front, where the wind hits the strongest. Jeff complains about his hair. 

“Hush, you know your hair always looks great.” Annie dismisses, settling into a seat largely dominated by the jacket of another passenger. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jeff smirks, though tugs absentmindedly at the top of his head anyway. “Feel free to compliment me some more.” 

“Don’t be an ass.” 

He just stares at her in response, and his obnoxious grin turns to something much softer, and suddenly Annie’s ribs seem too constrictive for her heart. 

The bus lurches forward. It’s a bit scary, being up so high - especially with the wind and the tilt that comes with being at the top and the slight, unpredictable bumps in the road and oh, God, it’s really not that safe up here, is it?

The guide explains the historical significance of the building coming up on their left. It’s stuff that Annie already knows, sort of, but she hangs on every syllable anyway. It’s distracting. Distracting is good.

But then the bus takes a sharp turn around a corner and she’s thrown for a loop again, torn between squeezing her eyes shut and staring, unblinking, needing to see exactly what is going on. 

“You okay?” Jeff murmurs, clearly having waited specifically for the guide to pause her speech. 

“Hmm? Yeah. Of course. Why?” 

“Your fingers… Sort of.” He looks down, pointedly. “Digging into my arm.” 

“Oh!” She pries her hand away from his arm. Ugh, and she has left a mark - small red crescents pierced into the skin. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. And, y’know. If this is - whatever, then we can just get off.” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” She shakes her head. _“I’m_ fine.” And she sort of is, now, or she’s _getting there_ at least. Jeff being there is a nice reminder. There’s no real reason for this to be as scary as it is. “Can I just-?” She shifts over a little, just enough that she can rest her head on his shoulder. Beneath her cheek, she feels him tense momentarily, then begin to relax. 

“Is this okay?” She has to make sure.

“Yeah.” He answers immediately, then corrects, seemingly realising how ‘uncool’ he might appear. “I mean. Yeah.” 

“Good.” 

They sit for a minute or so, Annie decidedly ignoring the bumps in the road and tilts of the bus. 

“Is this… Better?” 

He wants to make sure he’s doing a good job, she realises. Of what, she isn’t quite sure - of being there, being with her, probably. 

“Much.” She replies. Simply.

* * *

After 10 minutes Annie is back to her old self again, pointing at buildings and monuments every few seconds and trying hard (though failing) to not speak over the guide. Jeff finds it a bit silly when the guide pipes up and Annie flushes, biting her tongue to let him hear, because her explanations are far more interesting, anyway.

(When he tells her this, she gets a pleased, little smile on her face, and rewards him with a soft - if chaste - kiss, and he decides to make his thoughts known a little more often.) 

And besides, she’s cute when she’s excited. Jeff’s content just to watch her. Never mind the guide’s commentary on the cultural importance of whatever building or statue they’re currently driving past; he’d rather listen to Annie. Pretty happy sunny Annie.

He sort of feels the words crawling up his throat, but he hurriedly pushes that particular compulsion down. Not that he isn’t _planning_ on saying it - today, hopefully, so long as he doesn’t chicken out - but he has a distinct feeling that an overcrowded tourist bus isn’t the best place to do it. 

Annie suggested dinner, later - though by the time they get off this thing, he’s guessing it’ll only be around 5 at the latest. Does that mean they’ll hang out more then, in the space of time between the two planned activities, or will she need some space after this? 

Asking her about it would probably seem a little desperate. Perhaps it’s best just to go with the flow; take things one at a time; enjoy the present. 

Which doesn’t take a whole lot of effort to do. The present is pretty awesome - Annie sitting so close to him that she’s practically in his lap, talking excitedly about how they’re near the Smithsonian _(“the architecture is just_ beautiful, _Jeff, you have to see!”),_ occasionally leaning across him to point over the edge so he can feel her soft, warm little body pressed up against his…

And nope. Those thoughts won’t lead anywhere good. Not here, at least. 

So he focuses more on what she’s saying, taking in every syllable she speaks about the history of the museum, and finds himself nodding when she suggests a trip there in the next few days.

* * *

“That was fun!” Annie hops off the bus, quickly moving to the side to allow Jeff to step out. 

“Yeah,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets. There’s something uncertain in the action, and she knows there’s something he wants to say. 

So she waits a moment, tucking her hair behind her ears and shuffling her feet. She’s about to break the silence herself, just ask him if he’s alright, when he speaks up. 

“So…”

“So?”

“What do we do now?” 

Huh?

“I mean,” he continues, talking as if he’s feigning nonchalance. “Like, do you want to go home, now? I could meet you later. If that’s what you want. Or we could. Whatever. I don’t know - were you planning on…?” 

???

“I wasn’t planning on going home.” Annie replies. “I sort of - Well, I thought we could hang out. If that’s okay with you?” 

“Definitely.” He sounds relieved. At her questioning stare, he explains: “I wasn’t really sure what was gonna happen, you know? Before dinner.” 

“Oh.” 

“But I’m glad you wanna hang out. I mean, I do. Too.” 

Aww! “Thanks.” She has to fight the smile blooming across her face. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff and Annie go to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i was gonna post this tomorrow bc its late but i just!!! had to finish this chapter!!! so here you go lmao
> 
> oh and i haven't checked this over for mistakes or anything (I'm passing out as soon as i post this) so if u notice anything ill correct it soon!!

They end up walking through yet another park (this one is much larger; more people, more trees, more space), sipping icy smoothies and searching for an unoccupied bench to sit down. 

“I had fun today.” Jeff grins down at her.

“Me, too!” Annie swings their joined hands. “The date’s not over yet, though.” 

Heh. Yeah. “I guess not,” Jeff replies, though honestly he thinks that if the entire _world_ were to end right now, at this exact point in time, he’d be fine with it. This is probably one of the best days he’s had all year. 

Their quest to find a suitable bench soon becomes obviously fruitless, and they inevitably have to lower their standards. The closest, situated a few feet away, is already occupied by an older man sat on one end, so Jeff and Annie end up perching on the opposite end, leaving a good deal of space between themselves and the stranger. 

“What time is it?” Annie asks, but before Jeff has time to answer she reaches for his wrist, holding his arm in place as she checks his watch. Her fingers, cold from holding her drink for so long, graze along his forearm for perhaps a little longer than is necessary, and the touch practically makes him shiver.

God, this is embarrassing. Has he always been this susceptible to her touch? 

(Probably. But he doesn’t want to dwell on that.) 

* * *

The dinner goes great. It’s a bit awkward at first - they find a nice-looking Greek restaurant but due to the fact that they don’t have a reservation, they’re not able to get a table. Their second choice, a tiny tapas bar located a short walk away, is significantly less crowded, but a whole lot less fancier than Jeff had been expecting. 

In the end, though, it’s really only the company that counts. And Jeff’s companion is pretty amazing. 

After the meal they spot an ice cream parlour across the road, and since neither of them particularly feel like dessert from the restaurant, they end up having over-filled tubs of icy, whipped sugar, scooping out little mouthfuls using the ridiculously luminous spoons. The red-brick wall behind them is only slightly taller than Annie, and they lean against it while they eat, while they enjoy their time together. 

It’s chillier out, the sun just having set in the sky, and the stars twinkle above their heads and Annie looks really pretty in this light - all light, really - and the wine from before fuzzes pleasantly through his veins and this is what he planned, right, this is what he came here to do, came out to DC to do, so why can’t he just say it. Why can’t he just say it?

“Annie,” Jeff blurts out, unthinking. 

She pauses mid-scoop, delicately sticking her spoon back into the tub. There’s sort of a smile on her face, just the suggestion. “What?”

He’s aware of his entire body freezing up all at once. The words feel too sticky in his throat. He can’t. Say it.

But then Annie laughs at him, in the unabashed yet simultaneously reserved way that she always does, like she’s perfectly fine with laughing at him but wants him to know it’s not out of malice, like it’s more fondness than meanness, and and and-

“I love you.”

Annie goes still. Her thoughts are going a mile a minute and Jeff can practically see the wheels turning in her brain, whirring fast and out of control. 

It’s not the wrong thing to say. It’s pretty funny, actually, when he thinks about what a big deal he once thought it was. How he panicked when he realised for the first time. How he spent months (or years, really, that’d probably be more accurate) actively repressing it, _hating_ it, and finally resigning himself to the idea that he’d never really get to tell her how he feels. He loves her and it’s simple. Freeing. He loves her and he’s told her and instead of feeling panic, all he feels is calm. He knows it’s alright. He knows she loves him, too. 

Annie finally unpauses, setting her ice cream tub carefully on the wall. Jeff mimics her action slowly, unsure of what is coming next. 

Suddenly he is nearly knocked off his feet.

He’s expecting a kiss that’s hard and fast, but what actually comes is just. _Softness._ There’s really no other way to describe it. Annie’s all squishy where he’s firm, and she kisses him slowly, juxtaposing the way she sort of threw herself at him seconds before. He’s never been kissed so gently. It’s wonderful. He never wants it to stop. 

It does.

“I love you too.” Annie grins, misty-eyed. “I never - I mean. I used to kind of hope, you know, but I never thought is was a real possibility…” She trails off, shakes her head, but Jef thinks he might understand what she’s getting at. Nevertheless, she continues where she left off originally. “I love you, I love you.” 

And then they’re laughing between kisses and kissing between laughter and some time later ( _much_ later, _Jesus)_ they’re back at his hotel and smiling and touching and sighing and loving and falling asleep, curled together, face to chest, hand to hand, and, 

and,

and.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tentatively saying there'll be 2 chapters after this


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nighttime conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got sappy real quick
> 
> EDIT: forgot to say that the "again, again, again" line(s) are inspired by chapter 94 of "It's Called Chemistry" by randomramblesff!!!!!

“Ugh”, Annie groans, throwing an arm over her face. “I think my roommate was expecting me to go home tonight.” 

“I could call you a taxi,” Jeff offers. 

“No, it’s fine.” She dismisses, reaching for her phone. “I’ll just text her. I’m sure she’ll be cool with it.” 

Jeff nods, using Annie’s distraction as an opportunity to check his own phone. 

And fuck, it’s nearly midnight. How long did he sleep for? 

On a whim he decides to finally reply to the message Britta sent him just after he landed in DC. It’s been sitting unopened since then - perhaps because, for whatever reason, he was too scared of what it might say. 

Though he has to conceal a wince upon opening it, it turns out to be relatively unimportant. _Have fun in DC, loser. Thanks for leaving me alone with Chang._

 _You’re not alone._ He texts back. _You have Frankie and the Dean._

It’s late(r) back in Colorado, so he doesn’t expect a reply. Still, he flicks the ringer off and sets in face-down on the bedside table to avoid any interruptions. 

“She says it’s fine.” Annie informs him a moment later, placing her phone just slightly out of reach before shifting closer to him under the sheets. 

“Oh. Good.” He lies back, sinking into the pillow. (Speaking of which, he’s pretty sure there were two, earlier - suspiciously, Annie now has three.)

They lie in silence for a minute or so, eyes adjusting to the dark. The only light that manages to trickle into the room is from the dim lampposts on the streets outside, and Jeff focuses on it, stares at the faint streak across the opposite wall until it goes blurry. 

“I’m really glad you came to DC.” Annie pipes up, speaking slowly, as if it’s taken a lot of courage to say. 

“Me, too.” Jeff never really considered  himself to be a pillow-talk type of person, but of course that was pre-Annie. Everything has changed by now - he’s simply not the same person he was back in his twenties. 

“No, I mean it, though.” Annie persists, locking eyes with him almost forcefully. “When we were in the study room, before, and you said those things - I thought that was it. And then I found out you were dating someone else, and…” She trails off, shakes her head. “I never thought things would turn out like this - like…” 

“Like?” He prompts. 

“Like a dream.” She says, confidently, as though she’s finally sure of herself. “This is perfect. _You’re_ perfect.” 

“Heh.” Although her speech does weird (though strangely pleasant) fuzzy things to his insides, he can’t help but feel a little worried. If her expectations are too high, he knows he’ll never meet them, and then she’ll be disappointed and annoyed and she’ll leave him and he’ll be lonely and sad and Annie-less, and… 

“What are you thinking about?” Annie - graciously - interrupts his thoughts. There’s a little frown on her face, though. “Did I say something wrong? Please don’t freak out.” 

“I’m - I’m not freaking out,” he lies. At her doubtful stare, he amends, “well, not about what you’re thinking of, at least.” 

“But you’re still freaking out a little?”

“Maybe.” 

“Tell me,” she urges, shifting to prop herself up by her elbow. It’s strange, seeing her practically towering over him, for once. 

He stares mutely at her until the rest of the room goes all-dark, completely out of focus. Meanwhile, Annie waits, breathing in and out with long, measured breaths. 

“I just.” Jeff starts, but his throat is dry. Swallow. Another attempt. “It’s not always gonna be like this, you know.” He watches for her reaction, but her expression remains unreadable. “I mean, this is, like, the honeymoon phase or whatever. And, sure, it all might seem perfect _now -_ thank you for that, by the way,” he adds the last part with a wry grin, and is awarded a smile in response. “But, say, two months from now, we might be arguing or - or I’ll have done something to piss you off, or maybe everything just gets too much for you, or for me, or…” 

“So, what you’re saying is, there’s a lot of things that could go wrong?” 

“Well, yeah. Sort of. But not just that. I - fuck.” He throws an arm over his face, shielding his eyes from her stare. “It’s not always gonna be this good. Sometimes it’ll be boring, or frustrating, or just plain _bad._ You barely know me, after all, I mean, not as a - a boyfriend, or a significant other, or whatever - we really haven’t even defined this yet, actually - what if you.” He cuts himself off, realising he’s about to put all his cards on the table, here. But, hell, it’s Annie - she deserves to know at least part of what she’s getting into. “What if you find something in me that you don’t like? That you can’t love?”

“Jeff…” She sighs, frowning as if he’s insulted her intelligence. “I wouldn’t have gotten into this relationship if I didn’t anticipate that, sure, at some point - we might run into problems.” She fixes him with her usual quietly self-assured stare, takes a deep breath, and continues. “You don’t need to sell me on this, or talk me out of it, or whatever it is you’re trying to do. I’m not naïve, I know things won’t always be so new and fresh and exciting, but the rest of it all - the domesticity and casualness and routine - is perfect in its own way. I’ve known you for nearly 6 years, and-“ she briefly ducks her head, smiling bashfully “-I’ve been in love with you in some way for a good chunk of them, and I _know you_ by now. You’re selfish and brash and sometimes you don’t really think, and you’re brave and kind and good, and, yeah, maybe not everything in our relationship will  be perfect, but other times it _will_ be, because you love me and I definitely love you, and - and that’s all that matters, really.” 

Suddenly Jeff feels his heart rush fast, brain buzzing, like he’s drank five coffees in a row. He pushes himself up with the newfound burst of energy, and Annie sighs when his lips meet hers. When the half-sitting-up position gets too strained and uncomfortable, he leans back into his pillow, and Annie follows, shifting down so that she’s half draped across him. 

Moments later, when they’ve broken apart for air, Annie lets out a breathless little giggle. “That was nice.”

“That was _sappy.”_

“I know.” She grins down at him. “I love you.” 

“I love _you_.” 

“Say it again.” She insists. 

Jeff finds his own grin matching hers. “I love you.” 

“Again.” 

“I love you.” 

“Again, again, again.” 

“Annie Edison,” he moves and flips their positions, pinning her against the mattress. “I love you,” he says, using the low tone of voice he knows she enjoys. “More than anything in the world.” 

She wriggles a bit and might let out a ridiculous _squee_ -ing sound, but it doesn’t really matter, because he kisses the noise away. 

Because he loves her. 

Because she’s Annie Edison and she’s so pure and so good and she looked at him, really looked at him, and managed to find something to like. To love.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff and Annie go to the zoo.

Annie is sweating when she wakes up. She estimates it must be at least 70°F in the room, with the windows closed and the sunlight streaming in, and although all that is covering her is the flimsy hotel bedsheet, she still feels far too warm, so she kicks it away. 

Beside her, Jeff stirs in his sleep and rolls over, throwing one arm over her waist and tucking his head into the crook of her neck. His breath tickles her skin, and she can’t help but squirm a little, not wanting to rouse him. 

“Mmmm - huh?” 

Ah, shoot. It’s too late. 

“Annie?”

“Did I wake you?”

Jeff is silent for a long moment, and Annie wonders if he’s fallen back asleep. “Nuh,” he mumbles, semi-incoherently. 

“Sorry,” she says anyway. 

“’s’alright.” He finally shifts away, lying so he can rest on his pillow and still see her. “‘Don’t mind.” 

“Yeah…” Annie mirrors his position, grinning at him. Adds, in a sing-song: “Because you looooove meeee!” 

Jeff groans, turning his face into the pillow. “Don’t make me regret telling you that.” 

“You could never.” 

“Mmm. I guess.” Once again he slings an arm over her hips, pulling her closer across the bed. Annie nuzzles her face into his neck, content just to stay there for a while. Jeff is warm and comfortable and she never wants to leave. 

“I love you,” she sighs, partly because it’s true, and partly due to a newfound resolution imprinted onto her brain. She never wants to go a day without saying those words to him. Not when they’ve been trapped inside her heart for the past 5 years, and definitely not _now,_ when saying them is permitted, _welcomed,_ with the phrase just waiting to be returned to her. 

Jeff buries his face in her hair, and she can feel the slow, embarrassed stretch of his grin against her scalp. In Jeff terms, she knows, a bashful smile is the equivalent of one of her own _awww_ s or happy squeals. 

"What's the plan for today, then?" He murmurs; a soft rumble she can feel against her own chest.

Annie immediately springs into Planner Mode. "Well, there's a couple of options. There’s the Air  and Space Museum, which I’m guessing you were planning on visiting, anyway…”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, sure. And then there’s also the National Zoo - they have pandas! Or, we could go to the Arlington Cinema - a couple people at work recommended it.” 

“And you’re telling me you have absolutely _no_ preference, here?” Jeff raises an eyebrow. 

“Okay, fine.” Annie concedes. “I guess I’ve been meaning to go to the zoo since I got here, but I haven’t really found the time… But we can do something else, if you want.” 

“Let’s go to the zoo.” He insists.

“Are you sure?” She hedges, reining her excitement in a little just in case. 

Jeff nods seriously.

“Great!” She pushes herself up a little - awkwardly pinning her own arm underneath her in the process - so she can give him a one-armed hug. “We should get out of bed soon, though.”

“Mm. Five more minutes.” As arguments go, it’s fairly weak, but it persuades Annie nonetheless. 

* * *

“So,” Annie begins, and Jeff knows there’s something wrong. The past few conversations have mostly been excited remarks about how _‘absolutely adorable!’_ the tiny monkeys in the mammal centre were, and other than that, the outing has thoroughly been spent just looking and smiling and enjoying each other’s company. 

“Yeah?” And her (warm, comforting, albeit slightly sweaty) palm slides out of his, so he stuffs his hands in his pockets and hopes the perfect day isn't going south. 

“You’re leaving in two days, right?”

“Right.” He tries not to trail off too much, but can’t help but wonder what she means. It was the agreement from the beginning, from _before_ the beginning - he didn’t want to cramp her style or interfere with her internship, and besides, neither of them could have known things would work out so… Good. Great, really. 

“I was gonna wait to talk about this later, but. I guess I’m just -  worried? I mean, I don’t. Um.” She shakes her head, studies the ground at her feet. “I need to know the plan. Like, what’s gonna happen once you leave? I still have three weeks until I’m back home and I just-“ 

“Just…?” 

Annie pauses a moment while she apparently tries to collect herself, taking a moment or so before finally meeting his gaze. “I don’t want things to go back to the way they were before I left.” 

And it’s his turn to scrutinise his feet, because he knows exactly what she’s getting at, and it’s something he’s wondered about himself. Jeff Winger is not blind - he knows his own patterns, and it’s not a stretch that he might try to forget it all happened when he returns to Greendale. 

(Not out of malice or ill-intentions - he thinks _‘misplaced guilt’_ is far more likely. Perhaps self destruction. Either way, he knows it’d have nothing to do with Annie herself. 

But maybe she doesn’t.) 

“I don’t want that, either.” He responds, trying to convey as much sincerity in his tone as possible. “The past couple days have been amazing. Of course I want it to continue when - when you come back.” He steals a glance at her face, but her expression is hard to read. So he asks. “But. I’ve got to know - what do _you_ want?”

“More of this - all of it.” Her smile is almost blinding. “Skype dates and photos and texting about benign details of your day. I’ll miss you too much, otherwise.” 

“I think I already miss you.” 

“Oh,” and it’s not really a gasp, more of a flutter, but it’s enough to convince Jeff to wrap his arms around her, rest his chin on the top of her head, and just  b-r-e-a-t-h-e  i-n. The noise and the smell and the gusts of humid wind fade away until it’s simply. Them. Annie-and-Jeff. 

He eventually has to disentangle himself from her (and it’s way too adorable, the way she sort of sighs at the loss) and pull himself together a little. ( _Zoo. Public place. Many, many spectators.)_

Annie must be thinking the same thing, because she takes a moment to right herself before slipping an arm through his. “Let’s get this back on track.” She offers. “Minimal angst for the rest of the day, okay?” 

_Thank God,_ he thinks, and follows her lead.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fingers crossed I'm gonna be writing some stuff for jxaappreciationweek so u can expect some one-shots in the next week!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sleep can wait for one night._

It’s separate beds (separate rooms, separate buildings, separate streets) for the night. Annie feels bad for neglecting her roommate, and Jeff goes along with it, joking as if he _needs his space_ , even though there seems to be an unspoken agreement between the two that, though it might feel slightly inconvenient, sleeping apart for at least _one_ night during his stay is necessary. 

Still, Annie finds herself missing him. 

And it’s pathetic, really, because she’s managed to go most of the summer without seeing him. And she was fine, then. But now - it’s like some part of her has just up and left.

So she’s staring up at her phone, held precariously above her head, and the clock blinks 11:42, and before she really has time to think, she’s typing. 

> _TO: Jeff_
> 
> _hey  
> _

She sets her phone face down on the bedside table, not expecting a reply until the morning. 

However she’s woken from her semi-dozing state 10 minutes later when her phone vibrates, loudly. 

> _hey_

And even though she’s just been woken up, she blearily grins up at the screen. 

Sleep can wait for one night. 

* * *

The air on her bus is warm and sticky and jolts off as soon as she takes her seat. It’s bright enough that she can see the dust and the fingerprints and other smudges on the window, obstructing the view of the passing houses and buildings and trees. 

Annie kind of regrets staying up so late last night, but then again, no she doesn’t. She’ll be repressing yawns for the rest of the day but she can’t say she’d take their late-night texting session back. To an outside eye she supposes the whole situation would sound rather promiscuous, but in reality it couldn’t have felt more innocent. Like staying up all night with a friend, or texting with a crush back in middle school, except even better. 

She’s grinning when she walks to her desk, just under an hour later. Simultaneously hoping and not hoping for one of the other interns to ask her about it, because God, she just feels like she could burst with happiness, excitement.

Alas, no one does, but it’s okay because she has plenty of time to unleash her good spirits on Jeff when he calls during her lunch break. He’s kind of vague on what he’s been up to so far - leading her to believe he’s slept most of it away, and really, she can’t blame him - but agrees to meet her when she finishes up with work. 

(This at least puts a spring in her step when she gets back to the paperwork and filing that makes up most of her work day.)

* * *

They meet up as promised and walk around aimlessly for a little while - her hand in his, the heat radiating from his arm when it brushes against hers. The shared sense of being acutely aware of their lack of time together currently. He’s leaving in a day. 

Annie reminds him so, staring at her feet as they stroll, the white rubber tips on her shoes. It comes out - well, not _un_ intentionally, per-say, but certainly not as a conscious decision. But it’s on her mind, and has been since yesterday, and for all the talking they’ve been doing since they met (in the train station, like the old-timey romance novels she used to pretend not to read) it’s not something that’s came up organically.

And she sort of expects a longer response, something emotional and eloquent and indicative of everything, their whole relationship so far. 

“Yeah,” he confirms. It’s all he really can say. 

But somehow that just. _Alleviates_ the tension. Because, yeah, duh, he’s leaving. But then she’ll also be leaving (later, yes, but still) and they’ll be together again and she’s not quite sure why it feels like such a huge deal. It isn’t. Or, it doesn’t have to be, at least.

So she makes a silent promise not to think about it until it’s actually _happening_ , swings their hands between them, and continues. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyyy. couple more chapters after this maybe


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They spend some time together before Jeff is due to leave.

Jeff’s sort of torn between the impulse to spend as much time with her as possible, and allowing slightly more time apart, on his own, to prepare for the remaining few weeks he’ll have to spend in Greendale without her.

But in the end it isn’t really a question.

Annie climbs into the hired cab after him and he doesn’t bother stopping her because really, when has he ever had the ability to do so?

And though it’s difficult he tries to tamp down any feelings of weirdness about their current arrangement, tries not to listen to the accusations racing round his mind - _this isn’t what new couples are usually like, it’s all moving too fast, soon it’s gonna burn out -_ because he knows their relationship _isn’t_ usual or normal. They’ve been half together for years now and are now taking the next step, and of course it’s gonna seem like things are moving fast, but when he thinks about it, it’s actually _more_ understandable than it would’ve been if they’d taken things slowly, the way he imagined they would, imagined they probably should.

Her nervous hand in his as they ascend the stairs, and the desperation in her touch makes his heart ache a little. 

Then later, when she turns in his arms and strands of hair make her expression unreadable and she just says one word.

“Jeff.” It could be a question, but maybe not.

“Yeah?” 

She doesn’t reply, just stares, and it’s so overwhelming that he just has to _say something._

“I love you.” He’s probably wait the phrase more in the past 48 hours than the past 6 years old his life.

Annie doesn’t smile or squeak or wriggle like she did the first time. Just continues studying him, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly. Then, “Tell me.”

Jeff shakes his head, not even bothering to try and articulate the way he’s feeling into a way easily comprehensible, because he knows, he knows she’ll understand. “It’s too much.” 

She nods and grants him a tiny smile. “I know, right?” 

They lie again for a moment, simply staring, until, just like that, it’s over. 

(Or, not _over,_ not in the sense of endings at least. More like paused.) 

Annie shifts over and levels out her breathing and Jeff’s pretty sure she’s fallen asleep until he feels her thumb, lightly brushing over his pulse where it beats, hard, under the skin of his wrist.

* * *

She has work again the next day, but manages to schedule in an extra 5 minutes of lunch to meet with Jeff, trying to make the most of his last day in DC. 

Annie finds him in the back corner of the little Starbucks just down the street from the Academy, two steaming mugs across the table. She takes her seat and bites back a smile when she raises that he got her order right without even having to ask. He knows her that well.

“How’s work?”

“Fine.” 

She takes a sip and watches as he follows suit.  

“Are you hungry?”

“Not really. Someone brought cookies in today, so it’s safe to say I’m kind of stuffed.” She laughs like it’s a joke, and Jeff doesn’t but he does give her a little amused grin and she guesses that’s something.

“How was Air and Space?” 

“Great, yeah.” He nods. “It was pretty fascinating.” 

“Good.” 

“Yeah.” 

It’s a little awkward, nothing like it was Before, but still visible, and she wishes it wasn’t. It’s nothing that they can’t power through, but it’s still frustrating, sometimes, that it’s an experience they’re both still having. 

She longs for the morning, before she had to leave, early and hazy at 7 am when she woke up with his arm still around her and his nose in her hair. The cocoon of warmth built up under the sheets and the little sigh Jeff made in his sleep when she tried to disentangle herself without waking him up. 

What she’d give for the easiness of the morning just now. 

“What do you want to do tonight? Dinner?”

“I was actually thinking we could stay in.” 

Jeff nods like it’s the answer he was expecting, and she can’t help but smile a little at that, at how nice it feels to just play house together. There’s an implication there of the exact way they’re going to spend their night in, and though it’s true that the excitement and novelty of that hasn’t faded, it’s tinged with a shade of disappointment, the knowledge that tonight’s gonna be the last time for a few weeks that they can actually be together, and her grin falters a little.

And he must pick up on it because when their eyes meet, he’s giving her a look like he understands, but, like she, doesn’t want to think about it all that much right now.

So Annie holds his hand across the table and strokes her thumb against his palm and tells him about her day in more detail; fills the silence until the tension is gone and they can just relax again.

* * *

When he kisses her against the locked door of his hotel room, he tries to savour it, really remember the feel of her hair slipping through his fingers and the heat of her skin through her shirt and the smell of her perfume when he mouths across her neck.

There’s a delicious little sighing sound she makes when he reaches up to cup her cheek, and he wants to remember that, too; wonders exactly how long he can preserve the memory for until it’s forgotten. Maybe years, if he tried hard enough.

Though he’s insecure and pessimistic he’s not completely stupid and knows that as much as it feels like it, this probably won’t be the last time he’ll ever get to kiss her like this, feel her soft against his hands and hear the breathless way she says his name but there’s still an undercurrent of _now or never_ as much as they both try to deny it. 

So it’s a while before they even get to the ordering food stage of the night. 

By then the heaviness of earlier is gone and they’re able to flick on a movie and actually pay attention to it. She steals spring rolls from his carton and makes fun of his hesitance about the calorie count. He cracks jokes and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. When they share a messy kiss they both taste of chow mien but neither of them particularly mind and it’s okay, it’s okay.

Annie borrows his toothbrush and his shirt and half the bed and they don’t have sex but for a moment, right before Jeff closes his eyes, they just stare at each other for what must be a solid 5 minutes and somehow that feels even more intimate. 

(He wakes up with his phone glaring 3:30am and her front against his back, her arm slung almost protectively over his waist. And he smiles.)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter!!!! thank you to everyone's who's been keeping up with the series (its been over a year now!!!!! what?!)

Though he can’t say he’s exactly _happy_ to be leaving, Jeff wouldn’t say it’s the worst feeling in the world. For example, it’s definitely much better than the beginning of the summer, when Annie was gone and he didn’t know where they stood. Now everything is so much _clearer_ and yeah, sure, he’s leaving but it won’t be that long until they’ll see each other again. 

And that’s why they’re both surprisingly calm in the cab and right in the lobby of the airport. Annie rolls his suitcase for him and makes a joke about how _Britta would approve, you know, breaking gender stereotypes and all that_ and he laughs. It’s easy. 

“Shouldn’t you check in now?” 

“Wow, _that eager_ to get rid of me, huh?” 

Annie huffs a little and moves as if to swat at his shoulder, but at this point it’s more of a caress. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. I just don’t want you to miss your flight.” 

“I have, like, an hour and a half.” 

“You’re supposed to get to airports _at least_ two hours before takeoff.” 

“Well, not all of us can be a conscientious rule-follower like you are, Annie,” 

She sticks her tongue out at him. “You were _supposed_ to say you couldn’t bear to be apart from me for longer than is entirely necessary.” 

“Does that really need to be said?”

Arms folded, head tilted to the side. Teasing. “Maybe.” 

He mimics her stance. “Then, I can’t bear to be apart from you for longer than is necessary.” 

“ _Entirely_ necessary.” 

“Fine, _entirely_ necessary.” 

A pleased little smile playing at the corners of her mouth, and she gently prises apart his folded arms. Runs her hands over the soft cotton of his shirt-sleeves, and rocks forward on her toes until they’re level. The kiss is short and brief; has him chasing her lips when she moves away. 

“You can be sweet sometimes.” 

“I know.” 

She presses her lips together and sighs through her nose and just looks at him for a long moment. 

“You don’t _really_ want me to check in right now, do you?”

“No,” she admits. “But I don’t want you to miss your flight because of me.” 

“‘Shame this isn’t a crappy rom-com, otherwise you could’ve followed me to the gate.” 

“Shame.” 

The small bouts of conversation they’ve been having ever since the morning have been (though pleasant) stunted, and now doesn’t seem to be any different. It’s as though they’re both trying to procrastinate the inevitable realisation and parting and doing anything possible to prolong their time together, and now that there truly _isn’t_ anymore time it’s starting to catch up. 

Annie checks her watch. “You’ve only got an hour and a half.” Nudging his suitcase towards him with her foot, “you should go.”

“Yeah.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets for something to do. 

“I’m not gonna say goodbye,” she warns, “because I’m flying home soon, too.” 

Jeff nods.

“But I am gonna say _see you soon,_ ‘cause I want to be polite and we can’t just stand here in silence until you leave.” 

“Alright.” 

“So…” She bites her lip, looks down, then back up. “Promise to Skype me as soon as you get home?”

“Scout’s honour.” 

Annie nods once, a sort of finality to the motion. “I guess I’ll see you soon, then.” 

“See you soon.” 

She’s gorgeous in the shitty airport lighting, wearing her work clothes with a tired sweatshirt thrown over prim blouse, and when she kisses him it’s nothing at all like months ago - like back when the roles were switched, when she was leaving and he was stuck - because back then it tasted like regret and now it’s so much lighter. Back then it wasn’t _goodbye,_ exactly, no matter how much his anxieties liked to label it so, but it was more like _see you later_ and even that’s different because now, it’s _see you soon._

They spend another 5 minutes standing there as the lines form at the top of the room and when he finally does cross through security, he feels as though a weight has been lifted from his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed :)


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